


Fluid Dynamics

by 1010nabulation



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bodyguard, Chastity Device, Clothed Sex, Crossdressing, Exhibitionism, M/M, Rock Stars, Voice Kink, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 01:55:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4245108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1010nabulation/pseuds/1010nabulation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written as a gift for Gear_King, for this amazing prompt:</p><p>"I want to see Eridan as an international music icon, hugely famous, unbelievably talented, and more than a little spoiled. When Eridan is onstage crossdressing as an unfairly attractive female, Karkat, his bodyguard, is doing the same so he can tail Eridan into the appropriate bathrooms and dressing rooms without incident. It's frustrating for the both of them.</p><p>Yes, this is entirely an excuse for them both to be in skirts when they do the do.</p><p>I don't particularly care how you do it, but they can't wait and dive into the nearest darkened corner to screw each other senseless. While still clothed, please. I have strange needs.</p><p>I would especially like if Eridan's voice has interesting xeno properties, perhaps along the lines of a siren? Bonus points if he can't keep himself quiet while they're having sex and this isn't exactly a private area."</p><p>I hope you enjoy it!  It was tons of fun to write!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fluid Dynamics

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Just a note-- There are cameos by a few trolls (Kanaya, Sollux, and Tavros) that I felt were much too brief to tag them for. But there you go! Some cameos happen. :)

“All right, what the hell did you want to show me, Eridan? It better be good.” Karkat's eyes narrow suspiciously at Eridan's back as he follows him into his personal dressing block. “You fucking pulled me away just as I was about to give the security squad their assignments for tonight. It's _opening_ night of the tour, and a bunch of them are new and don't realize what a clusterfuck they've gotten themselves into. Making sure they're prepared for the hordes of pan-scrambled fanatics you attract at every concert is kind of top priority.” 

“Relax, Kar, I'll make it quick, promise.” Eridan's grinning from earfin to earfin, which is just way cuter than he has any right to be, what with the terrifying shark maw he's flashing. “Just wait right there.”

“Fine,” Karkat sighs, watching as Eridan disappears into the huge walk-in closet. He's not going to admit how curious he actually is to see what's got Eridan so excited. It'd just encourage him to think he can pull Karkat out of his very serious duties as head of security on a whim more often than he already does.

The sound of rustling and a few muffled curses draws Karkat's attention away from his own thoughts. What the hell is he doing in there? Wrestling with his ridiculous wardrobe? “Eridan?”

“Just a minute.” He sounds strained. “Fuckin... clasp.”

Karkat rolls his eyes. “Let me help.”

“No! Wait, Kar, I got it.” It's quiet for a second. “All right, close your eyes.”

Eyes shut, Karkat heaves a loud sigh. “They're closed.”

“Good.” 

More rustling. Then nothing. A lot of nothing. This is taking too long, and Karkat's about to say so. He sighs again, toes tapping in the plush carpet and fingers clenching into irritated fists. “ _Eridan._ ”

“Okay, sorry, you're just so fuckin adorable standin there all anxious.” The amusement in Eridan's voice is audible. “You can open your eyes now.”

Karkat does, all set to glare at Eridan like he deserves for making him wait, only he ends up wide-eyed and gaping instead. Oh. Eridan's in a dress. 

A fucking gorgeous sleeveless gauzy black silk and tafetta dress dusted with violet glitter. His eyes rake over Eridan's body, lingering on the open sides of the dress where it bares his gill slits, and on the ruffled skirt that falls so fucking short in the front it's _barely_ long enough to cover his junk but trails so long in the back that it touches the floor. There are strappy black stiletto heels on his feet. Jesus fuck. Karkat's gaze travels back up Eridan's long, sinuous legs, gets stuck for a moment on his bodice where his sign is picked out in sparkling violet stones, then finally settles on the smile still stretching Eridan's face. His lips are glossy black, and his eyes are shadowed in glittery purple and silver. Grubfucking hell, he's even swapped out his usual bulky black glasses for sleeker frames, and he must have mussed his hair up while getting dressed so it isn't slicked back anymore. Instead, it's falling in loose waves, a few soft violet tendrils framing his face.

He's fucking _stunning_. It's un _fair_.

“So was it worth shirkin your duties a bit, lettin me show you this?” 

Like Eridan has to ask. But he looks so hopeful, and Karkat is pretty sure at least some of the color in his cheeks is a natural blush. He nods. “ _FUCK_ yes.”

Eridan laughs and preens for Karkat, spinning to give him a view of everything. God, the back is slit too, showing off the fine-tined fin down his back. “Excellent. I wanted you to be the first one seein me lookin so fine.”

That's... actually really touching, considering how hungry for anyone's attention Eridan always is. It makes Karkat smile. Damn right _his_ attention is most important.

“You're smilin,” Eridan points out. “I did good?”

“Yeah. Yeah, you did.” Karkat's bloodpusher gives a wobble in his thorax at the sappy look on Eridan's face. 

Eridan's dress rustles as he moves closer, coming to cup Karkat's cheek and then trace the curve of his lips with his fingertip. “So fuckin flushed for you, Kar.”

How _dare_ he be so romantic. It's not even like he's _trying_. When he's trying, he tries too hard and it's obvious and forced and obnoxious. Not like this. Fuck. Karkat leans in to Eridan's touch, letting out a slow breath. “Flushed for you too, Eridan. You fucking gorgeous asshole.” 

Suddenly, making out with his matesprit is a thousand times more important than preparing for the concert. Eridan couldn't be more secure right now anyway. Karkat's guarding his body with his own. Intimately.

He hums into Eridan's mouth, trailing his hands over the soft airy fabric of his dress. Eridan gasps whenever the rough pads of Karkat's fingers brush over the exposed skin of his back, his sides. His skin is soft too, smoother even than the gown. Karkat knows every inch of Eridan already, but somehow touching him when he's dressed like this makes everything feel new and exciting.

“Fuck, I love your gown,” Karkat whispers. He finds himself wondering, wishing he knew what it felt like to wear something like this. Elegant. Sexy. So fucking sexy.

“I can tell.” Eridan nips at his lip, squeezing Karkat's ass through his thick uniform pants.

Somehow that's what pulls him back to his senses. He has a job to do. One more peck to Eridan's lips and he pulls away. “Okay. I gotta... mmm, go do. Stuff.” His hands are still on Eridan's hips, thumbs rubbing at the sparkling fabric. “More makeouts after the concert.”

Eridan pouts. “But, Kar, that's _hours_ of waiting. What if, instead, the opener plays a little longer than usual, and we...?”

“No, this is the goddamn kick-off concert for your Fluid whatever tour!” 

“Dynamics,” Eridan supplies. “Fluid Dynamics.” 

Karkat waves a hand at it, giving an exasperated huff. It's a seadweller pun, probably. Or maybe it has to do with gender? The dress thing suggests it might. “Whatever. Everyone will be here to see _you_ , dummy. Come the fuck on, Eridan, you can't make them wait.” 

It takes another couple of kisses and a reluctant shove for Eridan to finally pull away. “Fine, not now, but you promise later? I'm feelin so sexy and I really fuckin want you to pail me already; waiting's goin to be torture.”

Oh god, just hearing him say that makes Karkat's nook pulse. He clears his throat. Fuck. _One_ of them has to have some self control, and it's clearly not going to be Eridan. “Fuck you if you think this is easy for me either. Later I will wreck your shit. I solemnly fucking swear it.”

Eridan smiles and pulls Karkat into one last searing kiss. “That's what I want to hear. You should go on and give that important speech to your security people now. I got to touch up my makeup. It's a little smudged. So's yours.”

He reaches over and runs his thumb over Karkat's lips, and it comes back black and glossy.

Karkat feels his face heat. He sure is wearing some of that lipstick now, too, all right. He... kind of likes it. As he watches Eridan start to walk away, he makes a decision. He wants this too. He's going to go for it. “Um. Hey, Eridan. I think you forgot something.”

“No, I already gave you a hickey.” Eridan says dismissively, smirking at him over his shoulder. “Don't worry, everyone will know. I didn't forget to leave my claim on you for later.”

“That's not--What?” Oh good, now his cheeks aren't just warm, they're on fire. Karkat's hand goes to his neck, rubbing at the sore spot he hadn't even noticed before. Fucking sneaky, snarky asshole. But he's not going to let himself get derailed. “Shut the fuck up, Eridan. You fucking forgot to give me _my_ dress.”

Laughter catches in Eridan's throat. His brows are raised, like he's expecting Karkat to be joking. Jokes on him; he is very fucking serious. He could protect Eridan in a dress. Hell, he could protect Eridan naked if he had to; Karkat is damn good at what he does. Managing crowds and subduing rabid fans is something he undeniably excels at; that's why he's also head of security and gets to tell everyone else what to do. But he wants to make Eridan's jaw drop too, just from how fucking gorgeous _he_ is, give him a _reason_ to stare. He wants to feel the flowy lightness of soft fabric against his skin instead of the coarse and perfectly functional drab fabric of his security uniform. Fuck, that's embarrassing to admit, though.

Karkat licks his lips, staring at Eridan's stilettos. “I mean. I'd be a pretty shitty bodyguard if, if I couldn't follow you into... load gaper facilities. For people in dresses. Like ladies. And us. Um. And I don't know, powder rooms? Are those a thing? Whatever. I need to blend in. You're in a dress, so I should be too.” He raises his eyes to look at Eridan, his hard expression daring him to laugh some more.

He's not, though; not at all. In fact, Eridan's looking at Karkat like he couldn't be more thrilled. “Oh my god, Kar, _yes_. You are a fuckin genius; I don't know why I didn't think a that before. You need a dress right fuckin _now_. Come with me.”

That was easy. There's a small bewildered smile on Karkat's lips as Eridan takes his hand and pulls him along. They have to visit the costume designer. Eridan doesn't have any dresses or skirts that he thinks will be flattering enough on Karkat, but of course Kanaya will know what to do. In addition to creating Eridan's own magnificent ensemble, she's outfitted all the background dancers; she's got to have something that'll look good on Karkat's short, compactly muscled frame too. 

Kanaya pats Karkat's shoulder affectionately when he tries to explain to her why he needs to be wearing a dress as Eridan's bodyguard. She doesn't care what the reason is, or at least acts like she doesn't. He relaxes a little after that, actively picking and choosing as Kanaya and Eridan present him with options. Nothing too tight. He doesn't want to wear anything too fucking loud or morbid, either, so the striped white and lime green skirt is right out. Finally, Kanaya emerges from her closet with a dress of dark red satin. It has nice cap sleeves and is fitted on top, and the skirt is flared and very short. Black lace peeks out at the bottom, matching a stretch of the same around the waist. It's perfect. Not too flashy or too opulent, but dressy enough to be pretty.

And it fits. For a long moment, Karkat just stares at himself in the dressing block mirror. It looks good. It _feels_ good. It hugs what curves he has and the way the skirt flows gives him hips of a sort, and damn his ass makes it pop in the back. That's hot. _He's_ hot. He pulls on the knee-high shiny leather platform heels he picked out to go with it, and _fuck_ it's perfect. Karkat could fucking cry right now. It's nothing short of a goddamn miracle that he actually thinks he looks good for once—no, not just good, really _amazingly_ good.

And he feels fucking _powerful_. He tries to hold himself with Kanaya's grace, to smile confidently like Terezi. Okay, that's kind of scary. Maybe he'll tone the smile down a little.

“Come on, Kar, I want to see!”

Karkat takes a deep breath, holds his head high, and steps out of the dressing block.

Eridan's eyes widen when he sees him, and he exhales a small 'oh'. Karkat stands there for a moment, just taking in Eridan watching him with stunned hunger. “Well?”

“Kar, you're...” Eridan tries to clear his throat. “You're...fuckin...” It's like he can't find the right word. Instead, his sentence ends in an embarrassingly loud trill.

Kanaya laughs softly, and Karkat goes scarlet all the way to the tips of his auricular shells. She already knows of their relationship, of course, everyone does, but it's still pretty much mortifying to be making sex noises at each other right in front of her, involuntary or not. 

Graciously, she ignores Eridan's outburst. “It's very flattering on you, Karkat. Shall I show you to hair and makeup?” She turns to Eridan. “Mr. Ampora, excuse us?”

Eridan nods, looking dazed.

“ _Later_ , Eridan.” Karkat looks at his matesprit meaningfully, trying his best to communicate how very fucking _fucked_ he'll be this evening, in all the best ways, once their obligations are all over.

Eridan's fins flare, and he trills again, softer this time. “Yeah, Kar. Later.”

 

Karkat leads his security debriefing from his chair as his makeup and hair are being fussed over. Nobody questions him, though a few people who have been on his crew a while look surprised. Whatever, let them stare. He _wants_ them to. Some of the new recruits look downright intimidated, though, which is kind of awesome. Karkat feels fucking fierce.

As he's wrapping it up, one of the guards, a tall and burly bronze named Tavros, timidly asks permission to also alter his uniform. He wants to wear a skirt. Of course Karkat tells him to go for it, with pleasure. As long as his crew feels confident that they can perform their duties, he tells them they can all wear whatever they are comfortable in. Provided they wear their badges and communication earpieces, of course. He taps his own shiny silver security badge, pinned prominently to his dress over his right rumblesphere, and pulls a tuft of hair back to expose the mic tucked into his hearduct. Setting a good fucking example for all, as a good leader ought.

The evening proceeds smoothly from there. Heads turn wherever he goes, and Karkat is loving every second of it. The clack of his heels on the ground, the swish of his skirt as he strides confidently around, the appreciative glances he draws, it all makes him feel incredible. Fuck, he should have tried wearing a dress sooner. He's already decided this is going to be his uniform for the duration of this tour.

The best part? Eridan can't stop staring at him. Karkat has been keeping an eye on him between his other duties, and every time he enters the room Eridan gets thoroughly distracted from what he was doing and just... stares. Stares and then smiles all lopsided when he's caught. It's really goddamn cute. Normally once Eridan's on stage, even backstage getting ready, _he's_ the one commanding all the attention, and he's focused on revving himself up and getting in the zone to perform. It's kind of fucking hilarious that a simple change in wardrobe is throwing him so off his game. Karkat admits, it's charming as fuck.

Once the lights go down, just before the curtain goes up, Eridan catches Karkat's eye and blows him a kiss. And then that's it, the switch is flipped, and Alternia's hottest rock star is _on_. The audience roars as Eridan steps into the spotlight and addresses them. Karkat watches from backstage, smiling to see him light up so thoroughly. Eridan is so alive when he sings, pouring his soul into it, letting his lithe body move with the beat. The audience feels it too. Out beyond the stage is a sea of screaming, crying, undulating bodies all clamoring for Eridan.

And usually, Eridan is all theirs too. Tonight, though, he keeps stealing glances offstage. Every twist of his hips and pause in the beat is punctuated by a heated gaze directed only at Karkat. He's still singing his heart out, and his crazy siren-like seadweller harmonics are amped up to fucking eleven, and the audience is creaming their pants over him, but he's not out there for them tonight. He's singing every line for Karkat, and he wants him to know it.

And he does. Fuck, he feels it. Eridan starts in on Motion of my Ocean (Capsize), the lights flash like a lightning storm, and he's undulating like he's fucking underwater. The dress makes him look fucking surreal. Then he grabs a background dancer and grinds on them, all while keening and smoldering at Karkat, running his hands over the dancer's body so possessively, and _fuck_. Karkat's nook is clenching. Fucking Eridan. Stupid sexy goddamn rock star matesprit.

Karkat shifts, feeling his panties getting wet. He tugs at his skirt, but it's covering enough. Good. The tempo rises and Eridan hits the climax of the song, wailing about how his heart is capsized. Then the lights cut out and the only illumination onstage is Eridan's bioluminescent spots and freckles, glowing bright violet wherever his skin is exposed, outlining every tine of his fins, his eyes unnaturally bright with it. His voice goes rough and breathy as he croons to his love, pulling them under, and all Karkat can see in the darkness is that Eridan's eerie violet-glowing eyes are looking. Right. At. Him. It's a fucking good thing Karkat's charge is to watch Eridan, because he can't tear his own eyes away. Fuck. Fuck, he can feel his bulge pulsing in his sheathe. Karkat groans quietly and squeezes his thighs together, willing it to stay in. He can't pop a fucking wiggly on the fucking job.

It's a struggle to get through the rest of the first set. By the time it's through, the whole building reeks of pheromones and probably spilled fluids. Not a few audience members are going to head home later with incriminatingly wet clothing. This is the first time Karkat's afraid he might end up one of them.

Eridan is panting and sweat-drenched when he rushes backstage for the intermission. He makes a beeline for Karkat and doesn't even say hi, no fucking 'hey, how are you doing?' before he's kissing him, hard and needy. His hands are all over Karkat, sliding down the soft satin of his gown, catching in the lace at his waist, lifting up the hem of his skirt...

“HEY.” Karkat comes up for air and slaps his hand away. “Slow the fuck down, asshole! You can't just-- _we're in public._ ”

“Please. Kar, please. I fuckin need you, I do, _god_ you are so fuckin sexy.” His breath is hot against Karkat's horn. “Fuck, you smell good too. Sweet. Spicy. Perfume?”

“A little,” Karkat admits, feeling a bit lightheaded. Slowly he strokes his hands over Eridan's sides, careful to avoid the sensitive gill slits. He needs to touch him too, but is also kind of trying to calm them both down.

Eridan groans. “You should wear it more often. 'S pretty. Suits you. All a this suits you.” He buries his face in Karkat's hair and breathes deeply while his fingers clench in Karkat's skirts.

“Mmm,” Karkat hums, licking the salty skin of Eridan's collarbone. “Maybe I will.”

“Fuck, _please_ ,” Eridan gasps. “I wanna... I'm fuckin drippin for you.”

Shit, that's hot. Karkat squeezes his eyes shut and wills the throbbing in his sheathe and nook to subside. Now is not the time or place. “Yeah, you're not the only one. Later, I said. Later, or nothing, so ease the fuck up. Intermission's not that long, and you've got to go back out there--”

“I can't stop thinkin about you.” Eridan's hands are shaking as he runs them down Karkat's back, mimicking what's being done for him. Soft, slow touches. 

It's painfully obvious he's holding back, and god _damn_ Karkat's proud of him right now. He's trying. “I noticed.”

Eridan laughs. “You're a fuckin bulgetease.”

“Not on purpose,” Karkat says, letting his lips drag against Eridan's ear fin. “This is, though.” He takes the tender membrane between his teeth and nips at it.

“Fffuck you,” Eridan moans, his eyes fluttering shut and his mouth dropping open. “Right _now_.”

Karkat huffs a laugh. “It's not 'later' enough yet. Go on. Get back out there.”

He gives Eridan's ass a pinch through his dress, and isn't expecting a shiver and a needy chirp in response. All right, fuck, guess that was a bit much. In apology, Karkat presses chaste kisses to Eridan's fin, his cheek, his lips. He allows a _very_ quiet chirp of his own, just to reassure Eridan he isn't just playing with him and he isn't happy about waiting either. “Later.”

Reluctantly, he lets Eridan go. Eridan's makeup is smudged and his hair is a mess, but somehow it just makes him look even more ethereally pretty. Karkat smiles. “Go knock 'em dead, knockout gorgeous.”

Eridan fondly pushes a loose lock of hair out of Karkat's face. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Right. For you, Kar, beautiful, _anythin_.” 

It's still hard for both of them to focus through the entire second half of the show, but Eridan fucking _slays_. His energy is electric, and he's got the crowd singing along and screaming his name with every song he sings. Karkat has overheard several of the backup dancers commenting on how hard they're being worked tonight, like it's hard to keep up with Eridan, and it makes his pump biscuit swell with pride. That's fucking right. It's so clear to Karkat that Eridan's still, at his core, distracted and worked up as hell, but he's working through it. It's so goddamn sexy it hurts.

Karkat tries to do his job better, too. It's only fair. Eridan's giving his all, Karkat better step the fuck up and make sure his environment is safe. He scans the audience periodically, when he can tear his eyes away from Eridan's magnificent performance, checks in with each of his crew members over the earpieces too. Everything's fine. Well, as fine as they can be. There've been a few disturbances—a couple pailing loudly in the load gaper facilities, a bloody fistfight over who was the biggest Eridan fan, a dude who had to be thrown out because he wouldn't stop violently hateflirting with literally everybody—nothing his team couldn't handle. Nothing he hadn't already prepared them to be facing.

He still feels fucking amazing in his dress. It's hot in the theater, especially so close to the bright lights of the stage, and the freedom his legs are experiencing is fantastic (the dampness between his legs notwithstanding). Next time he might have to pick something other than satin; it's gotten a bit stuffy against his thorax, but overall the feeling of wearing a dress in the heat is great. Somehow, even though he's sweating, he still feels sexy. It could have something to do with the way Eridan keeps looking at him with such hunger, still, but some of it is just plain because he knows he looks so damn good.

Then Eridan goes and dedicates the song Eat You Alive (Sweet Cherry) to his matesprit, and all hell breaks loose. Well, to Karkat it does. The crowd goes wild, with whoops and cheers and with screaming and crying fans who just had their hopes fucking dashed. Their matespritship isn't even public yet. Everybody backstage is whistling and catcalling at Karkat. One of the lighting gals comes up and slaps him on the back. Karkat wishes he could melt into the floor. Instead he stands his ground, arms crossed over his chest, feet planted. Fuck everyone.

It doesn't help that the song is so blatantly sexual. It's totally about pailing. About Eridan eating his lover out, even if the lyrics are more along the lines of actual cannibalism. And the goddamn chorus is all sweet cherries dripping red all over, and everyone _knows_ that's not blood Eridan's singing about. Karkat glares at Eridan every time he catches his eye, even though, all right, he fucking _is_ dripping now, is everyone happy? Karkat fucking Vantas' panties are goddamn soaked in sweet cherry red. Hell! His bulge is even pressing out of its sheath at last, glory hallefuckinglujah! It's all Eridan's fault, seducing him with his voice.

And then. And _then_. Hooooly fuck. Karkat's jaw drops as he catches sight of a drop of violet sliding down Eridan's thigh. That's not sweat. Oh my god. Karkat can't breathe as he watches Eridan notice and fucking pause in the middle of the song to swipe it up on his fingers and _suck it off_. That. That just happened. In real life. That is the raunchiest thing he has ever seen, and he is so _turned on_ right now. The crowd is roaring.

A crackle of static comes through his earpiece. “Hey, boss, you might wanna lay low for a bit after this. There's fans out here out for your blood... among other things.”

“Stuff it, Sollux,” Karkat snaps back at his second-in-command. He scans the crowd and finds him, grinning stupidly back, and gives him both his middle claws.

He's never going to hear the end of this. Why did it have to be this song? Not that there are a whole lot of _non_ -sexual songs on the new album Eridan's currently touring for. Fluid Dynamics. Apparently short for _genetic_ fluid. Fuck Eridan forever.

Somehow, Karkat manages to survive the dedication and make it to the end of the song without murdering anyone or further humiliating himself by staining his dress. His bulge is struggling in his panties, thankfully still trapped there. There, another reason dresses are fucking awesome—no one can immediately tell he's got a huge wiggly. As long as nothing starts dripping down his thigh...

Eridan looks so elated when he's finished. He bows, and blows Karkat a kiss offstage, and it's unfairly sweet. Karkat is so _mad_ at him. He rolls his eyes and discreetly catches the kiss, folding his hand against his bloodpusher.

The rest of the concert passes in a blur. Eridan continues to blow the entire concert out of the water, while Karkat watches and remotely helps put out tiny security fires in between songs. Before he knows it, it's the last song, and Eridan's taking his final bows. Thank fuck. The crowd is deafening; they know they saw something special tonight. Eridan is _glowing_. Even without the lights dimmed, he is literally glowing.

He rushes off the stage as soon as the curtain drops and scoops Karkat right off his feet and into a searing kiss. “Now? Now. Please, I need you in me—mmhhh-- _now_ , Kar, I can't wait another second.”

“Nnnh—not here,” Karkat growls as Eridan sucks at his neck. “Someplace else. Private.”

“I can't,” Eridan whines. He's holding Karkat up by his ass, pulled tight so their bulges grind. Or would, if Eridan's was out... “It hurts, Kar, I can't wait!”

He backs Karkat into a darkened corner backstage and sets him down behind one of the giant speakers. It's... secluded enough. But it's not exactly private. Still, Eridan's already rucking up his own skirts, tugging his panties down and whimpering.

“Oh my fucking god, what the _fuck_ , Eridan?” Karkat hisses. There's a sheathe lock on him, keeping his bulge inside, and his thighs are fucking entirely slicked with violet.

“I put it on before the show. Didn't—didn't want my bulge all out onstage. Knew it was gonna happen otherwise.” Eridan's almost in tears, but he laughs weakly. “Worked!”

“You fucking idiot,” Karkat croons, fumbling to unhook the device. “You huge fucking idiot, oh my god.”

It finally comes loose, and as it clanks to the floor Eridan's bulge unsheathes in one fast stroke, and yeah--it's waving free and very goddamn visible, not covered at all by the high cut of his dress. He sobs with relief, clinging to Karkat's shoulders. “Fuck me, Kar? You promised.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” There's no denying him now. Not after he's pretty much tortured himself all goddamn night. Karkat's not _that_ cruel, and he fucking pities his stupid dumbass matesprit so much. He lifts up his skirt and hooks a thumb under his own panties and pulls them off. That's better. This'll be fine. They can fuck still clothed, so even if someone catches them, they'll still be covered enough. It'll be all right.

“I need you in me too, so—so we don't leave a mess,” Karkat says, getting one tall black boot hooked around one of Eridan's long legs to pull himself closer. He sighs as his bulge sinks into Eridan's nook, fingers tightening into the ruffles of Eridan's skirt.

Eridan trills in response, loud and long.

“Shhh! Shut the fuck up!” Karkat hisses.

“Can't help it,” Eridan moans. “Feels so good.”

His bulge finds Karkat's nook and slides in, and _oh_. Shit, yes. Yes, it feels good. Karkat chokes back his own trill, too afraid someone might hear them fucking. He mouths at Eridan's neck and lets his hands wander, dragging his claws gently over Eridan's exposed gills.

That makes Eridan gasp and writhe, his bulge lashing hard deep inside Karkat. 

“Ah!” It's hitting his shame globes already, pressing so deliciously in all the right places. That makes Karkat's own bulge seek deeper in Eridan, too. “Fuck, _fuck_ , Eridan!”

Eridan moans loudly, apparently unable or unwilling to care who might hear. “Kar! Yes! Y-yes!”

Eridan's hands fumble up Karkat's skirt until he gets a good grip on his ass, squeezing for all he's worth and slamming down onto his bulge _hard_.

“Shit. Shit!” Karkat cries. He's so close already.

So is Eridan. All it takes to send him spilling into Karkat is a hurried nibble at his ear fin and a well-timed lash of Karkat's bulge. He shudders, hoarsely calling out Karkat's name and pinning him to the wall as he comes.

That feels fucking amazing, getting filled so full while Eridan's nook ripples around his own bulge.

“Come on, come on babe, want to make you feel good too,” Eridan's crooning in his ear, fucking dizzying harmonics and all.

It's the sensation of his seedflap closing tight to hold all that fluid, combined with Eridan's noisy encouragement and the way he's softly carding his claws through Karkat's hair that finally does it. He bites down on Eridan's shoulder as he comes hard, his genetic material flooding into Eridan's nook.

They breathe together afterward, shakily coming down together, limbs tangled and dresses rumpled all to hell. Eridan eases them down so they're sitting on the floor in the tight corner behind the speaker, panties still around their ankles. Karkat rests his head on Eridan's shoulder, half sitting in his lap.

“That was... amazing,” Karkat whispers.

“Fuckin spectacular,” Eridan agrees, pressing a kiss to one of Karkat's horns.

Karkat closes his eyes, heaving a deep, satisfied sigh. “Just so you know... I'm wearing a dress as my uniform the whole tour.”

“ _Good_. I insist on it, Kar.” He smooths his hand down Karkat's back, over sweat-damp skin and then soft satin. “Wanna go back to my place? And by place, I mean dressin room. For more fuckin before we leave.”

Karkat hums in agreement. “That sounds nice.” His earpiece crackles again. “Fuck, hang on.”

Officer Captor's voice comes through. “So... encore?”

Oh, fuck no. No, no, no, NO, no. No. Sollux. Karkat sits bolt upright, startling Eridan. Whoops and howls come from just beyond the speakers. Fuck his life. Apparently they were not nearly as discreet as he had hoped. He blames Eridan.

Who is grinning a ridiculous sharky grin. He gets up on wobbly legs, pulls his panties up and straightens his dress as best he can, and exits to cheers from what sounds like _the entire goddamn crew, security, set, costume, makeup, what the fuck ever_.

“You're fired,” Karkat grumbles through the mic at Sollux.

It takes Eridan clearing everyone off before Karkat will agree to emerge from what has become his pit of shame. Sexy, sexy shame. Thankfully, no one bothers them as they make their way back to Eridan's private dressing room.

No one but Kanaya. “Mr. Vantas, please keep the dress,” she says as they pass, smiling way too knowingly.

“Not you too,” Karkat groans, going scarlet as said dress.

“Consider it a gift of congratulations on your healthy matespritship.” Kanaya winks.

He mutters thanks, and then hurries off, dragging Eridan along at a breakneck pace until they're safely behind locked doors again. 

The moment the bolt slides home, Eridan is already showering Karkat in kisses and tender caresses. “Don't let 'em get to you, Kar; they don't mean badly. They're really happy for us! I think it's sweet.”

Karkat lets out an explosive sigh. “Yeah. I know. I just really would rather my fucking private affairs stay private! Is that so much to ask?!”

Eridan pulls back and looks at him wonderingly. “Well. You know, Kar, you _are_ flush with a world class entertainer. Nothin's private, so you might as well flaunt what you've got.” He smiles, running his hands over the curve of Karkat's body. “And you've got a fuckin _lot_ a goodness to show off.”

There go his cheeks flaring again (and his bulge stirring, fuck and also ow; that's a sharp reminder he's going to need a pail soon). But Karkat has to admit, Eridan's kind of right. He should have known the moment he got involved with him personally that his life was going to be on display now too. He sighs softly, letting it all go, and reaches out to take one of Eridan's hands. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Eridan says, twining his fingers with Karkat's.

“Show me again?”

“As many fuckin times as you like!”


End file.
